The Titanic Secret (13 page)

He had only arrived at the decision to implement this phase of the operation after exhaustive discussions both with senior naval officers at the Admiralty, and with ministers and ministerial aides, the people who were his military and political masters.

It was, all parties admitted freely, a desperate last-ditch gamble, forced upon them by the bizarre circumstances of the so-called ‘Voss Plot’, and everyone who had knowledge of what was planned fervently hoped that the signal to execute the final phase would never have to be sent. But it was also abundantly clear to all of them that, in the end, this might be the only course of action open to them, the only way that a bloody war might be averted. They all agreed that a tragic accident, of the sort Mansfield Cumming was proposing, was infinitely preferable to the alternative.

10 April 1912
RMS
Titanic
/Cherbourg

The crossing of the English Channel had been smooth. In fact, at times, it was difficult to believe that they were actually on board a ship at all. Tremayne supposed that it would take a fairly rough sea before travelling on a vessel the size of the
Titanic
would become uncomfortable. He’d spent some time working as a deck hand on merchant ships before being recruited by Mansfield Cumming, and had only very rarely suffered from
mal de mer
even when those vessels were bouncing around quite a lot. He didn’t expect to have any problems on the
Titanic
.

Although they talked about how they would ensure that Gunther Voss would end up leaving the ship somewhere en route to New York, the reality was that they could make no definite plans until they knew where their target’s stateroom was located and, perhaps even more importantly, whether or not his two associates – Jonas Bauer and Lenz Kortig – would also be undertaking the voyage. At that moment, all they could do was make sure that they knew their way around the ship, and then, when the
Titanic
arrived at Cherbourg, try to spot Voss as he boarded.

A few minutes after six p.m., the ship began to slow down noticeably, and Tremayne and Maria headed back up on deck again, this time to watch their arrival at Cherbourg.

When they stepped out on the Boat Deck, the small French port was already clearly visible in front of the ship. Tremayne had a small pair of binoculars slung around his neck, and for a few minutes he studied the harbour through them as the
Titanic
drew closer.

‘This ship will never get in there,’ he said, ‘the harbour’s much too small. We must be going to anchor outside the entrance.’

He was right. Just before six thirty, with a rumble and a vibration which could be felt all over the ship, one of the vessel’s anchors was lowered to the seabed, and a few minutes later they realized that the propellers had stopped turning and that the ship was now stationary.

Tremayne and Maria shared the binoculars, studying the harbour and the activity there, both of them keeping their eyes open for any sign of Gunther Voss. It was evident that the arrival of the
Titanic
was quite an occasion. Enormous crowds of sightseers lined not only the harbour itself, but also the streets on both sides. Estimating numbers at that distance was difficult, but Tremayne was certain that the mass of people staring at the ship must have amounted to thousands rather than hundreds.

Then they spotted two vessels with steam up inside the harbour, and Maria guessed that they were the tenders which would be used to ferry passengers out to the ship.

When Tremayne saw one of the ship’s officers at the other end of the Boat Deck, he walked quickly across to him and held a short conversation before returning to where Maria had remained at the side rail.

‘You’re quite right,’ he said. ‘Those two vessels are specially constructed White Star Line tenders, based here at Cherbourg to service the transatlantic liners. They’re called the
Nomadic
– that’s the big one, over a thousand tons, according to that officer, and it’s reserved for first- and second-class passengers – and the
Traffic
, which will be carrying the mailbags and the third-class passengers. He said we’re embarking about three hundred passengers here, in all classes.’

Maria nodded and took the photograph of Gunther Voss out of her handbag to stare at it once again. Then she replaced it and again focused the binoculars on the crowds of people waiting near the two tenders.

‘I think we can safely assume that Voss will be travelling first class,’ she said, ‘so that will give us a smaller group of people to study. We’re too far away at the moment to tell for certain, but it looks to me as if there are about twice as many people getting on board the
Nomadic
than there are on the
Traffic
, but hopefully most of them will be second class, not first. Let’s make sure that when the
Nomadic
gets a bit closer, we take turns in looking at the passengers, and try to spot him.’

‘We’ll probably find it easier once he gets on board,’ Tremayne suggested.

‘I know. What I was rather hoping was that we’d see if he was travelling with anybody else.’

A few minutes later, the
Traffic
moved away from its mooring in the harbour and headed out towards the
Titanic
.

Tremayne leaned over the side of the ship and looked down. ‘There are two short gangways already rigged down there, so I presume one of the tenders will go to each of them.’

Maria looked where he was pointing. ‘The third-class passengers will probably disembark at the forward gangway, because most of their accommodation is in the bow and stern sections, and those are the noisiest and least desirable parts of any ship. And from here we’ve got a good view of the other gangway, so we might as well stay where we are.’

They watched as the
Traffic
came alongside the ship and, exactly as Maria had predicted, pulled up alongside the forward gangway. As passengers began to stream off, and crewmen began carrying the mailbags on board, they switched their attention to the
Nomadic
, which was now steaming out of Cherbourg harbour directly towards the
Titanic
.

Maria studied the approaching vessel through the binoculars, then shook her head in frustration.

‘There are too many people,’ she said. ‘Trying to spot Voss in that kind of crowd, and especially from right up here on the top deck of the ship, is pretty much impossible. I think the best thing we can do is go down again. We know he’ll have to go to the Purser’s Office once he gets on board. There’ll probably be quite a crowd of people there, so maybe we can lose ourselves in amongst them, but keep our eyes peeled for him at the same time.’

Tremayne nodded. Frankly he hadn’t got any better ideas, so as soon as the
Nomadic
had slowed down to draw alongside the
Titanic
, they turned round, left the Boat Deck and walked down the forward first-class staircase as far as C-Deck.

But by the time they reached that deck, there was already such a large crowd of people waiting outside the Purser’s Office that they realized their task was fruitless. Not only was there very little space in the lobby, but there was nowhere they could sit down, and if they just stood there, they ran the risk of being noticed by Voss. That was the last thing they wanted.

‘This isn’t going to work,’ Tremayne murmured to Maria. ‘I think our best bet is to go and sit in the reception room or somewhere, and try and spot him if he comes in. If we don’t see him now it doesn’t matter. There’s still a long way to go, and if we don’t find him today, then we will find him tomorrow.’

There were more people in the reception room this time, but they still found a table without any difficulty. They sat there, nursing drinks – Maria had again opted for a gin and tonic, and this time Tremayne had ordered the same – and covertly watching the entrance doors, novels behind which they could hide lying on the table in front of them, but nobody who resembled Gunther Voss entered the room.

At seven thirty, they guessed they’d missed him, and that he’d already been shown to his suite, so they got up from the table, ascended one deck, and walked down the passageway to their own stateroom to dress ready for dinner.

Tremayne had brought a plain black dinner suit with him, together with three shirts and two bow ties. Maria’s wardrobe was rather more extensive – and almost certainly more expensive, he noted – and she eventually settled on a full-length dress in some kind of purple material which shimmered in the light. They got dressed, on opposite sides of the stateroom, both being careful to keep their eyes averted from each other, but both obviously very conscious of each other’s physical presence in the room.

‘How do I look?’ Tremayne asked as he put on his jacket.

Maria turned round and glanced across at him. ‘You look like most men do when they’re wearing that kind of outfit. Like a waiter in an upmarket restaurant somewhere downtown.’

Tremayne smiled at her. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I suppose that’s better than a downmarket restaurant.’

‘Not necessarily.’

‘No matter what I look like, you look simply beautiful,’ he said.

Tremayne let his eyes rest on Maria for perhaps a little longer than necessary, and again he wondered briefly about her private life. She wasn’t married, he presumed, but perhaps she had a man in her life back in America. And he hadn’t been exaggerating – she was beautiful, the more so in her evening dress, the colour of which seemed almost to give a glow to her complexion – and he guessed she had plenty of admirers. Maybe the reason she hadn’t married was much the same as for him: with the kind of work they both did, neither could ever have a normal home life. And when you lived your life on the edge, it was probably unfair to even expect another person to get deeply involved with you.

‘Enough of the flattery, Alex. You know it’s not going to get you anywhere. If you’re ready, let’s go.’

10 April 1912
RMS
Titanic

‘Where to?’ Maria asked.

‘I’d still like to get a look at Voss today if possible,’ Tremayne replied, ‘so why don’t we go down and sit in the reception room and see if we can spot him as he goes into the dining saloon?’

‘That works for me,’ Maria said.

They walked down the forward grand staircase and into the reception room. They spotted a vacant table over on the starboard side of the room, and sat down. Outside, the evening light was starting to fade. Just then, they both felt a faint vibration run through the ship, and Tremayne stood up and walked over to the window to peer out. He glanced at his watch.

‘It’s ten past eight,’ he said, ‘and she’s just started moving. I suppose that’s not bad going. The ship was only at anchor for a little over an hour and a half, by my reckoning. So now we’ve got just one more stop in Ireland, and then we start the crossing in earnest. And no matter what happens this evening,’ he added, lowering his voice slightly, ‘obviously we don’t do anything except identify him until we’re well on the way across the Atlantic.’

A waiter walked over to them and took their order for drinks, and then returned a few minutes later carrying two glasses of champagne on a silver tray. After all, Tremayne had rationalized, you only get to enjoy any ship’s maiden voyage once, so why not make the most of it, at least until they confronted the reality of their task.

‘It’s a beautiful ship,’ Maria remarked, as he set the drinks in front of them.

‘It is, madam. It’s a privilege to be on board.’

‘My wife and I were wondering if the ship was full,’ Tremayne enquired.

‘No, sir, it’s not. We would normally have a crew of about eight hundred and fifty but, because this is the ship’s first voyage, we have almost nine hundred. And altogether, in all classes, the
Titanic
can carry almost two thousand seven hundred passengers, but at the moment we have about thirteen hundred, so it’s not even half full.’

Tremayne nodded and pointed towards a closed door at the aft end of the room. ‘And I understand that the dining saloon is through there?’

‘Yes, sir, but I’m afraid you’re too late for dinner tonight. First-class passengers dine in there at seven sharp every evening. But the à la carte restaurant – that’s located aft on the Bridge Deck, two decks above this one – is open all evening as usual.’

When the waiter had walked away, Tremayne and Maria lifted their glasses to each other in a silent toast. Then Tremayne leant forward, and Maria did likewise, cradling her drink.

‘The fact that the ship’s only about half full might help us,’ Tremayne commented. ‘The fewer passengers there are about when we have to make our move the better. Fewer potential witnesses mean there’s less chance of us being seen.’

‘But surely Mansfield Cumming will make sure we’d be protected if the plan came to light? We are carrying out his orders, after all.’

Tremayne shook his head. ‘I’m sure he’d do his best, but we’re in an unusual situation. If we were unfortunate enough to be seen giving Herr Voss a helping hand over the side of the ship, the chances are the captain would order us to be locked away in some secure space. Then, when we reach New York, he’d hand us over to the American police, and I don’t think they would feel particularly benevolent towards us if we’d just been seen murdering a prominent businessman who held an American passport. I don’t know how much sway Cumming and his Secret Service Bureau would have if we found ourselves in that position, but my guess is not very much.’

‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ Maria admitted. ‘We’re going to have to be really careful.’

Tremayne took another sip of his champagne. ‘And there’s another potential problem as well. If Cumming is right and the three men involved in this plot are all here, on board the
Titanic
, the first thing we have to do is identify the other two of them. And that won’t be easy, in amongst thirteen hundred other passengers, especially as Cumming didn’t manage to get photographs of them. I suppose the only thing in our favour is that they’re most likely travelling first class, like Voss, and there are probably only about three hundred or so passengers in this section of the ship.’